


Wrong Number

by montes-carpatus (Carpathyah)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Miscommunication, Post-Recall, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9527834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carpathyah/pseuds/montes-carpatus
Summary: Angela only wants to finish her work in peace and finds comfort in one of her favourite bars. After too many drinks, she accidentally calls the wrong person to come pick her up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Angela prefers red German beers.

The pile of paperwork seemed larger whenever she glanced at it. She attempted to sit down and tackle it but whenever she had a chance, her name was called and she was out of her office. 

“ _ Genug! _ ” she exclaimed when she saw that the pile grew even more during the day. She sighed as she packed up all her papers and put them neatly into her large purse. She locked the door to her office and walked quickly to the exit.

“Where are you goin’ at this hour?” Jesse curiously asked as she passed him. 

“To get a drink,” she said over her shoulder as she headed towards the door.

The air was cooler,and humid; reflecting the start of a Californian winter at the American Overwatch headquarters. She brought her wool coat closer to her body as she started the walk to one of her favourite bars. Her mood lightened at the sight of the glowing neons on the bar front. She had spent many nights here, with a few unique individuals. 

She sat at her usual spot; at the bar itself. It was a quiet night, and there weren’t many people in the vicinity. She took the initiative to spread all her paperwork in front of her with her tablet.

“What can I get you this evening, Dr. Ziegler?” The bartender asked. She looked up and smiled at the familiar face.

“Whatever’s the brew of the day, I am not particular,” she said as she searched her pockets for her ID Card that contained access to her earnings. “Make it a tab. It’s going to be a long night.” 

He quickly scanned her card and gave it back to her with a nod. She began her paperwork after the first sip of her pint. It was amber in colour and had a fruity aftertaste. It left her lips slightly sticky.

Once she began a rhythm, pages were being filled and filed neatly into their respective folders. She took sips and gulps as she paperclipped prescriptions and reports together. She stretched once to tighten her hair-tie. She nodded occasionally as the bartender refilled her pint with more beer. She sighed as the hours went on, and her pile of work slowly diminished into completion. 

“Last call, Dr. Ziegler, it’s 1:45am, do I refill one last time?” the bartender asked. She was surprised, as it didn’t feel like it was well past midnight. She still had the energy to go on for a few more hours. 

“Ah, one last time,” she nodded. He refilled her as directed. She took a gulp and lifted up her pen when she felt the clench in her pelvis to remind her that beer was indeed a diuretic. She signaled the bartender to look after her things as she got up.

With numb legs, her first step off the bar stool was a clear indication that she had too much to drink. She held onto the counter with all her strength and waited for the dizziness to subside. She blinked a few times as she regained her balance and headed towards the bathroom. She tapped some cold water onto her face to kill some of the buzz. She didn’t pay attention to her intake. She wondered if her papers were even slightly incorrect due to the alcohol intake. She sighed, she would have to go over all those reports tomorrow. She leaned over the sink a little longer with her eyes closed, thinking about how she would get back to headquarters safely.

She decided on calling Jesse to get her home. He was one of her closest friends, and she had picked him up in the middle of the night on several occasions. She pulled out her communicator and scrolled through her list of contacts. She had a hard time focusing and pressed on what seemed to be Jesse McCree.

“Hey, I’m sorry for waking you up. Would you mind coming to pick me up at the Americana Pub down the street? I had a little bit too much to drink,” she said into the receiver. She heard grumbling and shuffling. “Thank you, I’ll be inside. Bye.”

It took all her strength to get back up the stairs to get her stuff put together. Half way through sorting her papers back into her bag, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks Jesse I-Gabriel?” she exclaimed when she saw the rugged older man with half his face degenerated. If she wasn’t used to it, she would’ve fainted at the sight of muscle across his cheeks. 

“You rang?” he said, dryly at her expression. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her breath smelled heavily of beer.

“I-I called Jesse, not you,” she argued. He rose an eyebrow. 

“You called  _ me _ , Angela,” he snarled. She pulled out her communicator and squinted at her recently contacted. She squinted to see that she did call Gabriel Reyes and not Jesse McCree. She sighed and she ran her fingers through her fringe. Her head was pounding and dizzy. All she wanted was to get to bed. “Pack your papers, I’ll walk you back.”

“I have never seen you in casual clothes before” she remarked as she took a glance at his choice of attire; sweatpants and a hooded sweater. They were both a faded black.

“You’re just lucky I was still awake,” he said. She giggled as she packed the rest of her things in her purse. She had a hard time getting back down the bar stool. He had to hold onto her arm so she wouldn’t fall.

She jerked her arm away, he was just trying to help. 

“I’m fine, I swear,” she slurred. She wasn’t. Far from it. He didn’t want to rush her out, but he wasn’t the friendliest looking person in the bar. 

She tripped, and he caught her. “Take off your boots. You can’t walk in heels,” he told her. She was indeed in tall, chunky black booties. 

“No! I can cut my feet on anything and get an infection,” she lectured. He rolled his eyes as he swung her small frame into his arms. She squeaked as she took a hold of his neck. “Let me down! No! I refuse to be carried like this!” she shouted. He made his way quickly out of the bar as she kicked and squealed. He put her back down. She fixed her white shirt and began walking in front of him to prove that she was going to be alright. He watched her walk a few feet in front of her. She looked down at her feet but her eyes weren’t trustworthy.

She nearly broke her ankle on a crack in the pavement. She kneeled down on the sidewalk.

“All I wanted was to get some work done in peace,” she whined. Gabriel kneeled down beside her. His face looking fuller, and without much degeneration. “And I happened to call the man that hates me the most ,” she cried to his face. Age made her a lightweight and a sentimental drunk. 

“Give me your purse,” he held out his hand. She handed it to him. “Get on my back. I’ll bring you home.”

With her legs wrapped around his hips and her arms around his upper body, he carried her down the path back to headquarters. Her eyes often closing due to the dizziness that settled in her head. She focused on Gabriel’s  _ being.  _ He wasn’t cold, but he wasn’t perfectly warm either. His muscles felt as solid as anyone else’s. There was a slight echo of a heartbeat from where her head rested.

The walk felt like it went on for hours. She hugged a little tighter when her head spun in another direction.

“Are you going to puke?” he asked. She shook her head no. She didn’t feel any terrible nausea yet. “If you need anything, let me know.”

Gabriel made sure to be gentle as he walked through the doors to their headquarters. He felt her warm but slow breathing on the back of his neck as he paced slowly down the halls. He made his way to her room and swore when he found she had locked her door before leaving for the night.

“Shit,” he whispered as he twisted at the lock, putting Angela’s weight in his other hand. He sighed as he felt her move.

“Are we back home?” she mumbled, evidently half-asleep. 

“Yeah,” he said. He knew he had no choice. He wasn’t going to disturb her more than needed. He brought her to his room and gently laid her on the bed he barely used. He pulled off her boots and untied her hair from its ponytail. She curled herself up in his bed to sleep. He prepared a trashcan and a glass of water.

He sat in his chair and watched her for a while, how peaceful she looked while she slept. Her hair in a messy halo around her head. He thought about how her symbolism didn’t reflect her history. Her mouth had tasted blood many times before. There was a darkness within her that pulled him towards her.

He found himself sleeping beside her, but not close to her. Laying on his back, he stared up at the ceiling, listening to her light snoring and paced heartbeat in the quiet room. Sleep came unnaturally and he was awake soon after dawn. 

She awoke almost screaming. The headache was centralized around her forehead and made the world around her sound like it was on the highest volume setting. She slowly opened her eyes to a dark room, with little light coming in through black curtains. She immediately recognized that she wasn’t in her room. 

She sat up and patted her her chest to make sure all her clothes were indeed, still on her body. She glanced at the empty space next to her.

“Nothing happened,” he said as he walked over to offer her two Aspirin pills. She took them and finished the glass of water.  Her head was pounding so hard that she fell back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she said aloud as she heard him shuffle around the room. “For answering my call.”

He didn’t answer right away.

“It wouldn’t have been smart to leave you in a bar with all those reports,” he replied. She turned her head towards his voice. She looked at him through hazy eyes. Despite the decaying and regeneration, his facial hair had partially turned gray. 

“No, it wouldn’t have been,” she agreed. She listened to him answer a call from Athena, requesting him to the training grounds in forty-five minutes.

“Gabriel, do you have any information about the whereabouts of Dr. Angela Ziegler?  She is requested at Radiology and she isn’t answering her communicator,” she spoke. Angela groaned at the mention of work. She waved her hands in the air, trying to get Gabriel to not mention where she was. He internalized a chuckle as he thought of a lie.

“Probably working on all those reports she had, she will get back to you soon,” he said.

“If you see her, please let her know where she is needed as soon as possible,” Athena said before Gabriel hung up. She laid in bed a little longer as Jack requested for him to come immediately. He gave a nod as he left the room, leaving the door unlocked behind him.

She lazily got out of his bed, and quickly put her boots back on and her hair back in its original ponytail. She checked the closest mirror if she was presentable, and she was far from it. Her hair and messy makeup expressed a very long night. She sighed as she picked up her purse and left the room.

“Good morning Angela,” Ana chuckled as she watched the doctor enter the medical department. “Someone had a rough night.”

“Those reports had to be done,” she joked as she pulled on her white jacket and washed her hands. 

Her communicator buzzed in her pocket. She swiped the missed messages across the screen to see a message from Gabriel.

Want to go out for drinks again tonight? He typed. She smiled to herself as she strode through the halls to Radiology. 

Not a chance. She replied.


End file.
